


Concussed (FebuWhump 08)

by SylvanFreckles



Series: Freckles' FebuWhump 2021 [8]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Febuwhump, Gen, Hank is The Best, Mud, Nick Whump, concussion, hank ruins his shoes, lots of mud, of course it is, too much mud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29368224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanFreckles/pseuds/SylvanFreckles
Summary: Chasing down a perpetrator on muddy nature trails in the middle of a storm wasn't the best idea...but it was a picnic compared to hauling a concussed detective back up that same (horribly muddy) path.(Febuwhump prompt "hey, hey, this is no time to sleep")
Relationships: Nick Burkhardt & Hank Griffin
Series: Freckles' FebuWhump 2021 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139234
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	Concussed (FebuWhump 08)

**Author's Note:**

> This is set early on so Hank doesn't know about Wesen yet. I tried to keep him in character, but "sarcastic inner monologue" always starts sounding like Dean Winchester after a while.

Detective Hank Griffin swore when his feet shot out from under him and sent him sprawling on the mud of the trail. “I'll catch up, go! Get that son of a bitch!”

His partner, Nick Burkhardt, hesitated for a split-second before taking off up the trail after their suspect. Hank shoved himself painfully to his feet, nearly losing his balance again in the clinging mud. The pouring rain was practically dissolving the old nature trails that crisscrossed this area, but even with the dangerous footing Hank was keyed up to catch this psycho.

Hank dug his feet in, sliding along the trail, trying to catch some sight of his partner. He should have taken five damn seconds to swap out his shoes for the heavy-duty boots he kept in the back of his car, even if that meant losing sight of the suspect. The way the guy and Nick were churning up the mud would have made this an easy trail to follow anyway.

“Nick!” Hank slid around a curve in the trail, grabbing a tree for support. “Keep your distance, man, you hear me?”

He should have said something earlier, or let his partner help him up. Their suspect was a person of interest in a half dozen violent crimes already, no telling what he might do if he got cornered. Nick was a good detective, but he'd been taking too many risks lately...yeah, sure, they'd solved a lot of cases that had left most of the department stymied, but he'd really prefer his partner stay in one place.

There was another bend in the trail, then a downhill slope that had Hank skidding down it in a crouch, nearly sitting in the mud, then a flash of movement up ahead caught his attention.

Nick had caught up to their suspect and was trying to wrestle him to the ground, though it was obvious the suspect had almost a foot in height and maybe eighty pounds of muscle on Nick. Hank barely had time to let out a warning shout before the suspect gave an actual  _snarl_ and grabbed Nick by the hair to slam his head into the ground. Twice.

“Portland PD! Hands in the air!” Hank snapped his gun out of its holster and took aim at the suspect, approaching slowly. “I'm taking you in for a lot of things, and you can add assaulting an officer to that list.”

The suspect hunched down and bared his teeth at Hank...teeth that seemed, for an instant, to lengthen into something straight out of his nightmares. Then the guy was moving, faster than Hank could follow, tearing off into the woods beyond the nature trail with a cackled laugh that could have almost been a howl.

Hank squeezed off a warning shot, but he was nowhere close to hitting the guy. With another muttered oath he put his gun away and scrambled to his partner's side, dropping to his knees. “Nick? Nick, man, you okay?”

Nick was moving, at least, though when he tried to focus on Hank his eyes seemed a little too foggy. “D'ya get 'im?”

Crap. There was blood all over his face. “Okay, bud. How many fingers am I holding up?”

The younger man tried to focus on Hank's hand, then flailed up to try to feel the fingers for himself. “Three?”

“Not quite.” Hank rocked back on his heels and let out a sigh. As dangerous as it was to move someone with a head injury, they weren't exactly in the best place to wait for help right now. Mud and rain aside the suspect was still out there. And—Hank tugged out his phone to double-check and made a face—no cell signal. 

“All right, partner,” Hank hooked his hands under Nick's shoulders and heaved him up. “We've gotta get you back to civilization.”

Nick tried to get his feet under him but the mud sucked at his feet and he flung an arm around Hank to stay upright. Hank had to brace himself against Nick's weight and half-push, half-pull at his partner until Nick managed to stand on his own. Mostly. 

“You good, man?” Hank asked. He had one hand on Nick's chest and one on his back to brace him, and Nick had one arm slung over Hank's shoulder. Nick's eyes were wide and unfocused, his face even paler than usual against the blood streaming down one side of his face.

“Fine,” Nick said, a little too brightly, staring at something over Hank's shoulder. “Ready to get back in there.”

“Okay,” he patted Nick on the chest then carefully wrapped his partner's arm around his shoulders. “We're just gonna get you to a nice hospital, where the friendly doctors can make sure your brain didn't get scrambled too bad, okay?”

“Mmm.” Nick seemed to consider his words for a moment as they struggled through the mud. “Hey, Hank? Is the hospital dry?”

Hank chuckled at the pathetic note in his partner's voice. “Oh, yeah. Dry and warm and no mud in sight. Unless you're into that kind of thing.”

“That's good. Did you call Monroe?”

That threw him off for just a second. “Monroe? Why do we need to call him?”

“He needs to know I lost the...the...” Nick made a vague gesture then held his hand in front of his mouth with two fingers pointing down, like he was describing fangs. “He'll know what to do.”

Okay. That blow to the head must've been harder than he thought. “Hey, man, the guy repairs old clocks for a living. I'm sure he doesn't need to know about our little mud party here.”

“No!” Nick tried to twist away, but only succeeded in losing his balance and nearly pulling both of them down. “He needs to know!”

“All right, all right, I get it,” Hank shrugged Nick a little closer, trying not to lose his own battle with the mud while his partner found his feet again. “No signal out here, though, we gotta wait til we get back to the car, okay?”

The fight went out of Nick immediately and he all but collapsed against Hank, his head lolling against the older detective's shoulder. “Okay.”

Hank shook his head. “I'll never understand how you two got to be so close. You like the same sports teams or what?”

“I have secrets,” Nick announced seriously, dragging his head up enough to fix Hank with an unnerving gaze. “I wish...wish I could tell you.”

“Man, I don't think I want to know your secrets,” Hank retorted. “Probably have nightmares for a week if I knew what was going on inside your head.”

Nick didn't reply, which was just as well as they'd reached the hill Hank had slid down just a few minutes before. It wasn't very tall, maybe eight feet or so, but between the pouring rain and sucking mud and hauling a concussed man around it still looked insurmountable. 

There was something like a handrail running along the trail up the hill, though he hadn't noticed it on the way down. It was just a piece of half-rotted rope strung through a series of iron posts, but it was something.

“Okay, think I know how we're gonna have to do this,” Hank announced. “Hill's a bit tricky. I'm gonna go first, holding onto the rope here, then I'm gonna help pull you up as we go, all right?”

“Don't like climbing.”

“Well, you can't live here, man,” Hank argued. “Juliette would never move all the way out here, and you'd have a killer commute to get to the office in the morning.”

Nick stared at him balefully, but the younger man's shoulders slumped in defeat. Hank fought back the urge to roll his eyes—it was obviously the concussion talking, head injuries always turned Nick into a little drama queen. 

Hank grabbed the rope and shifted his grip on Nick so that his hand was wrapped around the other man's forearm rather than behind his shoulders. “Here we go,” he announced and carefully dragged himself up a few feet. The rope was coarse and bit into his skin, but he managed to anchor himself against one of the iron posts as he turned to pull Nick up after him.

“Jeez, man, what the hell?” Hank called. Nick had one hand on the rope and was trying his best to clamber up the slope despite his compromised balance...but he was heavy. Heavier than he should be, even with the soaking wet clothes. Hank had to wrap his free arm around the iron post just to give Nick enough of an anchor to pull himself up beside Hank.

“Sorry,” Nick panted, hanging onto the post for dear life. “What...what'd I do?”

“Nothing, don't worry about it,” Hank shook his head.

They repeated the process...Hank climbing up to the next post and reaching down to help haul Nick up to it...until they reached the top of the hill. It was ridiculous and time-consuming, but considering the alternative had been to leave Nick alone at the bottom of the hill with who-knows-what still out there...well, at least there wasn't anyone here to see it.

Finally at the top, Hank leaned against a tree to catch his breath while Nick simply flopped down into the mud. Hank stared at his partner for a few moments, then squished back over to lever the other man back to his feet.

Yep, he hadn't imagined it. Nick had gained weight. Although, that wasn't exactly true, was it.

“Nick. Man. The hell'd you get so ripped?” Hank grunted as he slung Nick's arm across his shoulder. “Time was I could throw you over my shoulder and still run the thousand-yard dash...now you're like a miniature terminator or something.”

Nick let out a wheezy laugh that dissolved into a coughing fit. Yeah, the sooner they got back to civilization the better. “Gettin' old, Griffin?”

“Old enough to dump your ass here and head back to the city by myself,” Hank retorted good-naturedly.

“Nah,” Nick slipped again, and he ended up wrapping both arms around Hank's neck to keep himself on his feet. “Too much...too much trouble.”

“Already took too much trouble keeping your scrawny ass alive?” He snorted and shrugged Nick up a little higher. “Got that right.” His car was finally in sight, parked just beyond the reaches of the forest. Forgoing his usual complaints about the mud and water he managed to haul Nick into the passenger's seat before sinking into the driver's seat himself. The engine might need a few minutes to warm up, but he was ready to get the heat blasting.

“Hey, hey, don't do that,” Hank complained, shaking Nick by the shoulder when he realized the younger man had closed his eyes. “This isn't the time to sleep, man. I'm getting emergency services on the line.” There was phone service here, at least, even if it was faint. 

“I mean it, Nick, stay awake,” Hank warned as he held the phone up to his ear. “I'll dump you right out of this car—yes, this is Detective Griffin, I've got an officer down and—dammit, Nick, I mean it!”

**Author's Note:**

> "I'd probably have nightmares for a week"...
> 
> Hank would one day regret those words...
> 
> Then he found out about Wesen and his partner's hidden life and everything started to make sense again.


End file.
